#if anyone tries to tell me my firbolg should be blue and not have a tail again i am taking something from your house

[wizardpotions]

the most annoying people on planet earth are people who try to rules lawyer and police other peoples dnd games with any form of homebrew. like girl, its not about you. ESPECIALLY if its to critique someones character design

#if anyone tries to tell me my firbolg should be blue and not have a tail again i am taking something from your house #dnd #ttrpg #dnd 5e #pathfinder #dnd character

[peach-the-owl]

Anon from before with the amnesia request. You can do the normal (retrograde) amnesia if you'd prefer doing that ^^

Since I don’t feel confident enough in myself to do your previous suggestion we'll stick with this… I regret nothing! Time for some emotional torture!

*Sigh* I can never decide if I want to just summarize these or do mini stories/story building… Oh well

Memory Lose

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

Retrograde amnesia: The loss of existing, previously made memories. This type of amnesia tends to affect recently formed memories first. Older memories, such as memories from childhood, are usually affected more slowly. Causes include but aren’t limited to head injuries, lack of oxygen, stress and trauma

Jester

You open your eyes, staring at the bright blue sky. Did you fall asleep? No that doesn’t sound right, where were you, what happened? You rub your head, noticing it felt extremely sore, and stretch yourself out. You’re suddenly lifted into the air and pulled into a hug by a strange blue woman, now you weren’t one to deny a hug but you were a little worried your caretaker might not like the idea.

"I’m so happy you’re okay. Don’t scare me like that." The woman says. You look at her confused and after a moment she copies your expression. "(Y/n)? What’s wrong?"

"I didn’t mean to scare you miss, but how do you know my name? Who are you?" You ask, you don’t remember meeting her yet she knew who you were, strange. She looks at you with concern and gives a nervous sounding laugh.

"Don’t be silly (y/n), you know me." You just tilt your head at her genuinely confused. The woman’s smile drops completely as she reaches forward, her hand giving off a greenish glow and placing it on your head. Instinctually you close your eyes, the magic flowing through you helping relieve the soreness in your head. "How’s that?" She asks once she’s done her spell.

"The soreness is all gone! Thank you miss…" you trail off, still unsure of her name, but something did feel more familiar about her. This poor lady in front of you looked like she was about to cry, now you felt really bad for her. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad." You reach out for her and she responds by picking you up and holding you close to her, something about this felt really familiar and you wanted to know why. "It’s okay, mama. It’ll be okay." The words just slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even bother to argue it.

"That’s right! I am your mama. Don’t you worry, we'll fix this, I promise." She looks at you with hopeful eyes and you give her a small smile, surely there was a reason you were here, one you couldn’t remember but were willing to regain the memories of. With this lady, because she refused to tell you her name saying she wants you to remember it on your own, and her friends help you slowly start to place the missing pieces back together.

Nott

You snap your eyes open to unfamiliar terrain and immediately jump into a defensive stance. Darting your eyes this way and that, trying to figure out where you were and what was happening. A tall woman walks into the room and stares at you, was she a threat? She looked like a threat so you hiss at her, she responds with a confused look and approaches you. Panicked you pat yourself down, your hand landing on your dagger and you throw it at the woman with another loud hiss.

"Okay, okay, okay." She holds her arms up and backs out of the room, victory way yours, for now. You scurry around the room, looking for a way out or a place to hide, especially when you hear more commotion outside the doorway. You quickly duck into a corner and hide yourself from view, watching, waiting for whoever was outside to leave. Another figure enters the room, this one a lot shorter, they also had more goblin features so you hoped they weren’t as big a threat.

"(Y/n) I know you’re still in here, it’s okay to come out. We just want to know why you tried to attack Yasha." You cautiously step out of your hiding spot, looking very confused but still defensive. Who was (y/n)? Who was Yasha? Should you be concerned about this? The other goblin looks over at you about to say something but upon seeing your confusion, her smile drops and she looks at you with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Who-who are you talking about? I don’t know you." You found it strange how non-hostile this lady was, goblin or not people usually start pushing you around due to your smaller then average size, but not her, it was so strange yet somehow familiar. Her expression drops more after hearing your words and she takes a quick swig from her flask before sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to her for you. You still approach with caution, unsure if this was some sort of trap and sit down next to her.

"You do know me, I’m Nott and your name is (y/n), that’s the name I gave you anyway, we escaped together from a cruel clan of goblins." She starts, looking at you. You tilt your head at her, it sounded vaguely familiar to you so you nod and let her continue. "We’ve been traveling together for quite a while and made more friends then we could’ve imagined…" She continues on like this for a while, recalling different moments you’ve experienced together. The more you ran these moments in your head the more you were able to remember on your own. Not all the pieces came back right away but it was enough for you to trust her and meet with the rest of the group to help continue recovering the rest of your missing memories.

Caleb

You stretch and yawn, feeling sore in the head but maybe you just bumped it on the table again. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you look around and realize your not in your house, that’s odd you don’t remember leaving for a trip anywhere. There’s a purr coming from beside you making you look over at the pretty kitty staring at you, they looked familiar but you don’t remember meeting a cat like him before, but who were you to refuse cuddling a cute kitty. After a moment the cat wiggles out of your grip and walks across the room pausing at the door and looking at you as if waiting for you to follow. Curious as ever you decide to follow them, there was just something about this cat that you trusted, letting it lead you around until they stop in front of a man who was deeply invested in a book. You pick up the cat and tug the mans coat, when he doesn’t budge you tug a little harder.

"Excuse me mister, is this your kitty?" You ask, giving the cat gentle pats on the head. He looks up from his book and over at you, first he looks confused then it turns to relief before shifting into concern. You tilt your head slightly at this. "Is something wrong mister?"

"Do you not recognize me?" He’s voice was quiet and full of worry. You shake your head and place the cat on the ground who walks up to the man and begins to purr and rub against him. He picks up the cat and looks deep in thought for a moment. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Oh! Ummm, my mama and papa were getting ready to meet a guest for the night and they told me to go play in my room so I wouldn’t break something by accident. But now I’m here." You explain, then a thought comes to mind. "Wait, are you the person my mama and papa are supposed to meet?" He stares at you a moment before going deep into thought again.

"(Y/n), that memory of yours was over 5 years ago," he starts, sounding as calm as possible. You look at him confused, how could that have been so long ago when it only felt like it happened yesterday. "You’ve been traveling with me ever since then. Not long ago we were ambushed, you’d gotten yourself injured as a result, I see now there was more damage to you then what we first thought. I didn't… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you." He continues, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, a look of guilt and shame on his face by the end. You didn’t want it to be true but there was something you couldn’t quite shake, that deep down you knew he was telling you the truth. You reach forward and try to comfort him by wrapping your arms around him in a hug, it seems to help a little as he returns the gesture.

"Maybe I don’t remember what you’re talking about, but I trust you." He brightens up a little more at your words. "So what happens now?" You question.

"Now," he stands up and offers you his hand. "We can work together to bring your memories back, if you’d like. Be aware it will take some time." It was more of an offer then anything but you give him another smile and a nod as you place your hand in his. It took some time a patience, but you manage to regain your memories back, even a few you had well forgotten about long ago.

Caduceus

Your head was pounding even before you opened your eyes, have a look around you knew you weren’t in your room or at home for that matter. Slowly you get up and have a better look around, trying to orientate where you were and what was happening. Soon enough you hear a door opening and look over at the firbolg that entered the room, he didn’t look like anyone from your family and yet he reminded you of your father, strange.

"I’m so glad to you’re awake. You really had me worried." He pauses a second and takes a good look at you, his relief turning to worry. "Are you okay? You don’t… you look like you don’t know who I am."

"Well, umm, you do have something familiar about you, I just don’t know what it is right now. I’m sorry." You lower your head sadly. Why was he so familiar? Did something happen and you'd forgotten about it?

"There’s no need to be sorry." He shushes you calmly, kneeling down and placing a hand on your head, you wince a little from the pain but it quickly disappears thanks to his healing magic, slowly you look up at him again. "What happened to cause your memory lose isn’t your fault, none of use could’ve known this would be the outcome." So it was memory loss. It was a bit difficult to wrap your head around but your mother always told you to trust in your instincts and let nature guide the way and you certainly felt a strong sense of trust from him.

"Can, umm… is there a way to fix it?" You give him a curious look. He smiles at you kindly, giving a gentle pat on your arm.

"I don't have means to give your memories back right away, but if your willing to give it time and patience they should be able to return on their own." He explains to you.

"What if I don’t like it? What I remember I mean." You ask, quickly adding the last part so it’d, hopefully make more sense.

"I couldn’t say for sure. I don’t know everything you’ve seen before we met, but I do know we share a lot of good memories together." You could tell he was being genuine with you but not saying everything, maybe as a way to encourage you to regain the missing memories, who knew. You think it over a bit before finally agreeing, there was a reason you were here instead of home with your family, a reason you might not like but learning the truth would be better then living in the unknown, and no matter how painful it might be you had someone to help you through it.

Fjord

The first thing you notice when you gain consciousness is the splitting pain in your head, you could smell the blood and place a hand over the wound wincing. The second thing you notice is the lack of sound, no waves crashing or ship bells tolling to set sail. Finally when you open your eyes you find yourself laying on your side in some grass, you try to survey your surroundings but the pain was preventing you from thinking clearly so you instead roll on your back with a groan.

"(Y/n)!" You vaguely recognize the voice calling you but can’t pinpoint it, soon a half-orc comes into view. "You’re bleeding, here let’s take care of that wound." He lifts you up into his arms without another word and carries you over to two other strangers who help patch up the wound on your head. Something wasn’t adding up to you how did these people know who you were if you didn’t know them? It was strange yet you also felt like you knew them. Maybe that wound had something to do with this? You just weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to cause any concern with these people so you figured you’ll try to solve this mystery on your own. While you were able to start putting a few of the missing pieces together, your charade didn’t last long, as much as you played off everything as normal, after a day everyone was catching on that something wasn’t quite right.

"You sure you’re feeling well (y/n)? You don’t seem quite like yourself." You look over at the half-orc as he approaches you, you hadn’t quite gotten everyone’s names yet.

"I'm uhhh, yeah. I'm fine, F-Fjord?" You we’re trying so hard to sound confident but you slipped and it came out more as a question. No surprise he picks up on this and gives you an odd look before he lets out a sigh and kneels down to match your height.

"I thought we worked on this stubbornness of yours and you’d be more honest with me about your problems." He says matter-of-factly, you slightly turn away from him with a nervous scratch at your arm.

"I… I don't know what your talking about." He gives you another look like he didn’t believe you. "No, I mean it, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t remember much of anything. I didn’t want to bother anyone so I’ve been trying to figure things out by myself but it hasn’t done a lot." You admit sheepishly, feeling guilty now for not saying something earlier.

"You don’t remember…" He trails off, taking in a breath. "Well, you’ve been very brave to go so far on your own, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here to help you, and I want to help you so don’t think I’ll take no for an answer." He puts on a confident face for you and as embarrassed as you were about hiding it before you can’t help but give him a smile and nod.

Beau

There was a ringing in your ears like voices in your head as you take in a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Where were you, and why were you wearing such a odd outfit, surely your parents didn’t approve of this, although try as you might you never could impress them. You shake your head, that was right they sent you away because they wanted to "help" your behaviour, but you don’t remember changing or being out in the middle of nowhere.

"Hey, you doing alright? You were hit pretty hard." The ringing stops as you turn to see a woman standing over you, her expression looking disinterested but her eyes held worry. Getting a good look at her you could see she was wearing an outfit similar to yours, making you realize that you were in fact sporting attire from the Cobalt Soul. This just gave you more questions then answers.

"I feel fine, mostly, but… you said I got hit?" This was awful, you hated being left clueless and if your sudden theory was correct you were missing more to this picture then you’d like.

"Yeah… do you not remember that?" She stared at you with growing concern. You rub your head with a groan, guess that answers that question.

"No, I don’t, and there’s probably a bunch of other things I can’t recall." You say more annoyed then anything. The woman raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing, waiting for you to explain. "You talk like we know each other but I can't remember who you are. I should be panicking over talking to a stranger, but at the same time I feel like I should know you and it’s bothering me." You explain as best you can. She stares blankly at you for a moment, letting your words sink in.

"You do always hate being left in the dark." She mutters more to herself. "Alright, well…" she trails off a bit and lets out a sigh. "I don’t really know what to say or do about this, the best I can suggest is getting Jester or Caduceus to look at you and see if they can fix it. If not then I guess all we can do is hope your memories come back on their own." For as calm as she sounded you could see genuine worry and even a bit of fear in her eyes.

"Hope?" You cross your arms and give her a determined look. "You say that as if there’s a chance I’m not going to remember, and if you really know me you should know I don’t give up until I find my answers." The comers of her mouth slowly curve into a smile at this and she lets out a soft chuckle, walking up to you and giving you a pat on the back. The two of you proceed to strut your way over to the others to fill them in on your situation and get started on brining your memories back.

Yasha

You open your eyes and instantly something feels off, you can’t quite place what it is but it just feels off. You stretch and yawn while trying to figure out what felt so off. Lets see the last thing you can remember was practice for… that’s it! Wasn’t your trial today? You get up quickly, this ritual was too important to the tribe to be late. You hurry down some stairs, thinking little of your different surroundings and step outside, taking in the fresh open air. No one else from the tribe was around, maybe you woke up earlier then you thought, you survey your surroundings just to be sure you weren’t missing anything when a someone approaches you. The woman in question didn’t look to be from your tribe but there was something very familiar about her you couldn’t quite place. Before you can say anything the woman wraps her arms around you and pulls you into an embrace.

"I was so worried, they attacked from nowhere… there was so much blood… I-I-I'm just happy you’re alright." Her voice quivered a little, you couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. An attack? You don’t remember the tribe being attacked. But she sounded to genuine it was hard not to believe her, like there was a fuzzy memory in the back of your mind to confirm it.

"Umm, thank you for the concern but…" You trail off a little, she pulls away and looks at you confused and worried, you felt bad but you had to ask. "I uhhh, I don’t mean to be rude miss, but can you tell me where I am and who you are?" Her expression drops more and she looks away slightly, you can see the tears running down her face as she takes several deep breaths.

"It’s me, Yasha. I-I’ve been taking care of you for… well for a long time now. Don’t you remember me?" She sounded so heartbroken, you can’t help but give her another hug which she returns.

"I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember." You say quietly, her grip tightens a little and you swear you can hear soft sobs coming from her. "Maybe… maybe that's why things don’t feel right… but you are familiar. I can’t really say why but I feel like I know you." You continue. She pulls away enough to look you in the eyes, a glimmer of hope sparkling in them.

"I could help you get them back. We have some friends that are really good at this kind of thing. They can help." She suggests, gently placing a hand on you cheek, you lean into her touch and give a small nod. It was clear now that things weren’t quite as you originally thought but you were willing regain everything you’d lost and move forward to a new future, your new destiny.

Molly

Everything hurt and you sigh, had you done something to anger Ms. Wolona again? You really hoped not. Sitting up you’re in for a shock when you don’t recognize anything around you. A lavender tiefling walks into the room, and there’s this feeling of familiarity about him you can’t quite place, you don’t remember meeting him, yet you couldn’t shake the thought that you knew him somehow. He looks relived to see you but his expression drops slightly at your confusion.

"You look surprised to see me, I know I’m always quite the looker but you know me." He says nonchalantly, you caught a slight hint of concern in his voice. You weren’t sure what to say or do, you’ve been told countless times not to talk to strangers otherwise punishment wouldn’t be far. Apparently your silence doesn’t sit well with the tiefling, his brows furrowing at you. "Come now (y/n), this isn’t the time for games." His tone was lower and more serious now, and he slow reaches a hand out towards you. You start to panic, knowing whenever you upset someone Ms. Wolona would have to punish you for bad behaviour.

"Imsorryimsorryimsorry! Please don’t hurt me, I promise I’ll be good." You sputter out, throwing your arms over your head and cowering. It gets deafeningly quiet for a moment as you wait for something to happen. The only sound in the room being your beep breathes, wait… no those weren’t your breaths you were hearing. Slowly, cautiously you lift your head slightly and see the staring wide eyed at you, looking just as, if not more so panicked they you.

"No nonononon, not you, not you." You hear him faintly mutter. Before you can wonder what he was talking about he’s out of the room, shouting something down the hall. Now you were really confused but also filled with fear, was he getting Ms. Wolona? After what feels like forever you get an unexpected answer when a different tiefling enters the room, she offers a friendly smile.

"Hi, do you remember me?" She asks. You just shake your head, she lets out a saddened sigh. "Well, would you like to?" Magic sparks to life in her hands and you flinch away. "I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I want to help you." You stare at her for a moment before you give a slow nod. One part of you was telling you that doing this would get you in a lot of trouble, but another part of you felt like you could trust this, thinking about it after all that first tiefling you met looked so familiar and before he’d run out you could see the pain and fear in his eyes for you. As scared as you felt, you wanted to make it better, so with a deep breath you hesitantly reach forward…

#critical role #critical role & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #jester lavorre #jester & reader #nott the brave #nott & reader #caleb widogast #caleb & reader #caduceus clay #caduceus & reader #fjord #fjord stone #fjord & reader #beauregard lionett #beauregard & reader #yasha nydoorin #yasha & reader #mollymauk tealeaf #mollymauk & reader #nothing romantic here

[ghostcribs]

supporting role

maplekeene

2635 words

Fitzroy wakes up from his post-curse nap and Argo is there.

—

Fitzroy can’t really remember ever opening his eyes while waking. Usually when he exits his trances, the world just sort of snaps into clarity and his full consciousness comes back to him, but it never really completely left to begin with. This time, it’s very different, and very disorienting. When his consciousness returns, it feels like he’s floating to the top of some dark body of water, like his mind is fighting to emerge from a pitch-black sludge and he can’t remember what he’d been doing. He’s had no awareness of the world at all for the past… Well, he certainly doesn’t know how long it’s been.

He’s so tired. He doesn’t even realize his eyes are closed for a little while, and when he does, it feels like it takes all the strength he has to open them. His surroundings are blurred slightly, at first, and for a brief moment he’s afraid the curse hadn’t been completely dispelled and he’s going to be pulled back into a nightmare. But then his head clears a bit and he finds his faculties fully returning, even if it feels like his bones are lead and every part of his being hurts.

He’s in their tent, he realizes. The canvas walls are alight with the sun outside. He’s pleasantly warm under a light blanket on the cot. He sees his cloak, vest, belts, and boots piled on the ground against the far wall and makes a mental note to scold whoever decided to just drop his expensive wardrobe in the dirt, but he doesn’t have too much time to get worked up over it because then there’s a sound of shifting fabric beside him and he looks up to see—

Argo. The water Genasi is sat in a wooden chair beside the cot, arms folded over his chest and one leg propped up on the other, dozing lightly. His head is bobbing a little, like he’s nodding off in class, and Fitzroy can’t help but smile at the sight.

He takes a moment to appreciate it. Argo couldn’t look unattractive if he tried, honestly, which is a real feat considering he has a goddamn mustache—Fitzroy hated it when they’d first met, but somehow over time he’d come to think it was kind of hot and now hates himself for that. But he thinks Argo looks the most attractive when he doesn’t know anyone is looking at him, so he really drinks in the sight of his toned arms, evident even through his loose tunic, and the smooth chest that’s pretty much always on display since he never laces up his shirts. His navy hair is tied back as usual, the dark curls cascading over his shoulders and back in casual waves. The way the soft light coming through the tent falls on the planes of his face and makes his blue scales shine like water really starts up the butterflies in Fitzroy’s stomach and god, he probably needs to not be staring like this at his friend and coworker—

And then, just like, a memory comes rushing to the forefront of his brain complete unbidden and echoes loudly in his ears. He can hear it as clearly as he can hear his own breathing.

“I know all about ya. I know… I know you’re not the fancy lad that you put on. You come from, y’know, kinda lowly stock. Your mom and your long haul truck driver dad, and… I know this ‘cause I was investigatin’ ya. I was checkin’ up on ya, keepin’ an eye on ya.”

Something sour curls in Fitzroy’s gut. Of course, he’s known that something was up with Argo for a while now, and he can’t be completely sure that this is what he’s been up to, but to know that his friend, his sidekick, has been secretly digging through his past and personal life… The betrayal from that is only rivaled by his utter embarrassment and—he hates to admit—shame. He’s spent a considerable amount of effort to keep anyone from learning about his background, and for Argo to be the one to find out is…kind of catastrophic, if he’s being honest. For different reasons.

He’s really not looking forward to the talk they’re going to have to have in the near future.

The longer he looks at Argo, though, the more memories begin to come back and there’s a large part of Fitzroy that just can’t be angry with him. There is no part of Argonaut Keene that has ever been mean or petty or vicious, which Fitzroy can’t say of himself, and in his heart of hearts he knows that Argo couldn’t have had ill intentions. Was it kind of shitty? Yeah, but Argo must have thought there was good reason. He’s a rogue, but he’s never struck Fitzroy as nosy. Not when it comes to his friends.

And that brings back more of Argo’s one-sided conversation with his lifeless body.

“You’re a good dude. You’re a really good dude, and you’re my friend, and I believe—I believe in ya.”

“I’m your friend, and Firbolg is your friend. And I think you’re gonna be remarkable! I think you’re gonna be just an amazing person! Because, you just… You have it in ya.”

“Don’t let your failure dictate what you’re gonna be. Y’know, when you fail at somethin’ the only way it defines ya is if you give up! And you haven’t given up!”

“Look, you gotta come back to us. We can’t do this without ya.”

A flood of warmth rushes through Fitzroy, then. He’s said in the past that he doesn’t trust Argo, but he’s not sure if that’s really true. Even when he acts shady and keeps obvious secrets, Fitzroy would still trust him with his life. The utter adoration that blooms inside him at just the sight of the rogue is enough to quell his unease about their current standings, at least a little.

He’s glad he was unconscious while Argo practically bared his heart in front of him, and he’s even gladder that he heard everything. He’s never really known someone with a heart of gold before, not like Argo’s. Affection swells alarmingly within him as he continues to gaze at the Genasi’s sharp, handsome features, dark eyelashes fanning out across his blue skin, shiny lips parted slightly, strong chest rising and falling with gentle breaths—

Before he feels too flustered, he coughs a little and, as he’d thought, Argo starts and wakes immediately. When his sea green eyes fall on Fitzroy, Fitzroy smiles and hopes it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Argo smiles, too, a softer version of the relieved expression on his face the last time Fitzroy had woken up beside him. “I spend a lot of time at your bedside.”

“I know.” He laughs a little. “I’m, uh, I’m a frail—”

“It’s a little creepy,” Argo says with a kind grin.  

Fitzroy shifts and tries to prop himself up, but his arms don’t seem to want to hold his weight very well. It’s embarrassing, being this weak in front of Argo, but it would’ve probably bothered him a lot more if his sidekick hadn’t looked at him with such soft kindness and wordlessly reached out to support him until he was sitting.

He takes a breath and tries to get his head on straight. It’s probably a good idea to get right down to business—there are far more pressing matters than his and Argo’s relationship and it’s the next thing weighing on him. The past twenty-four hours have been…a lot.

“Um, Argo,” he says, fiddling with the edge of his blanket. “I heard…what you said to me, in some far-off, distant part of my consciousness while I was suffering from the curse. And… We obviously have a lot to talk about. But I just have one thing to say to you right now, Argo.”

The suspense is palpable between them and Fitzroy almost wants to say something else entirely, but he shoves that aside.

“Tell me you picked up the pieces of the apple that I took a bite out of.”

—

After making sure the apple is mended and safely stowed away, Fitzroy leans back in the cot for a moment. Exhaustion really has set deep in every fiber of his body and he aches all over.

“Ya doin’ alright?” Argo asks, a concerned frown coming over his face. “I mean, that was… That was all pretty intense. Are you feelin’ okay?”

“I’m…very tired.” Fitzroy runs fingers through his hair, suddenly aware that he probably looks like a mess and undoubtedly has bad bedhead.

“I’m sure.” Argo looks a little uncomfortable for a moment, his gaze falling and his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Can—can I ask you a question, Fitz?”

Fitzroy isn’t sure why his stomach drops, but he nods. “Uh, sure.”

“If you heard me talkin’ about—about, y’know, that, then… Did ya hear…everything?” He looks equal parts anxious and hopeful as he asks it, like half of him is dreading Fitzroy’s answer and the other half is hoping he’ll say yes.

Fitzroy looks at him for a moment, contemplating and trying to figure out how to go about answering the question. He’s not surprised Argo’s asking, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping he’ll say.

He takes a breath. “Yes, the adventures of Larry the Lime were…extremely riveting.”

A blush slams into Argo’s cheeks and he laughs loudly. “Yeah, I know!”

Fitzroy laughs too, feeling a blush crawl up into his own cheeks. He loves seeing Argo laugh.

After another moment, though, the laughter dies down and the actual topic at hand still hangs between them acutely, unaddressed. Fitzroy combs through his hair again. “Um, but seriously, Argo, I—yes, I heard everything. I should… I should thank you for what you said. I didn’t know you felt that way, and I’m… Well, thank you.” He clears his throat awkwardly and feels the blush heat up. Expressing genuine, heartfelt emotion has never been especially easy for him. “It probably didn’t seem like it, but your presence helped a lot. I could…feel your support and that meant a lot to me.”

When he looks up, Argo is smiling from ear to ear. It makes Fitzroy’s stomach do another somersault. “I helped? I mean, you really feel like it helped?”

Fitzroy blinks and nods. “Yes, I—”

“Ha ha!” Argo, seemingly without thinking, reaches over and grabs Fitzroy’s hand with both of his. “I felt so helpless the whole time. I mean, the Firbolg went lookin’ for Calhain and Althea had that ward and I just—I felt like I couldn’t do anything to help except sit there and talk, so I’m really glad that I—that I could help ya, even a little.”

Then, he looks down and realizes he’s got Fitzroy’s hand. His eyes widen and he lets go as if it’s burned him. “Oh… I’m sorry, Fitz, I didn’t mean ta—”

The sudden absence of the rogue’s palm, of the cool, scaly skin against his own hand is surprisingly jarring. To Fitzroy’s horror, he finds himself chasing Argo’s hand and grabbing it. “Argo, I—”

Argo, I what? What exactly is he planning on saying? What the hell is he doing?

“Argo… I…” He swallows thickly. His gaze is trained on their hands, on his sidekick’s blue fingers curling around his own. “When I say your support meant a lot to me, I mean that… Well, you mean a lot to me. You mean a lot more to me than I can—” He stutters, completely unsure what his mouth is trying to do. But it’s sure as shit too late to back out now, isn’t it? “Do you… Do you understand where I’m going with this? It’s—I—”

The other scaly palm is suddenly on his cheek and he looks up with a start. Argo’s face is very close, close enough that Fitzroy can smell the salty ocean scent that follows him around, like he’s constantly being chased by a sea breeze. “Are ya sayin’ that ya like me?”

Fitzroy’s face is on fire—it must be. This is definitely not how he imagined this conversation going and yet… And yet, Argo is so close. His heart is pounding. His breath is coming quicker and he feels like any second now he’ll explode all to pieces. The only thing keeping him together is the fact that Argo’s touching him and somehow it feels right. It feels safe. It feels…kind of like the home he’s always wanted.

Slowly, Fitzroy nods. “I—yes, that’s what I’m saying. I…” He takes another deep breath. “Like you, Argo, and I think I have for some time now. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to—”

“Fitz.”

Fitzroy blinks, confused. “Huh?”

“Will ya shut up and let me kiss you?”

His heart is hammering away at his ribcage and it feels like all his insides are melting into goop and his head is spinning so fast he can hardly think, but his body reacts almost on its own. He whispers, “Yes.”

Argo’s lips are dry, but smooth, and cool like the rest of his skin. It’s quite pleasant. Fitzroy had never allowed himself to entertain the thought of kissing him much, for the fact that he was almost certain his feelings were unrequited, but if he had imagined it, this would probably be exactly it. Argo’s hand is still cupping his face, and without really thinking Fitzroy’s hand rises to his shoulder, up his neck, and into his hair. There it tangles into the damp, beachy waves that are just as soft as he would have guessed.

The kiss isn’t long, even though Fitzroy would like it to be. But there’s activity on the other side of the tent, and they both seem to remember that there’s business to attend to at the same time.

When Fitzroy opens his eyes, Argo looks just as breathless and stunned as he feels. There’s a handsome flush in his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes that Fitzroy doesn’t see very often. A curl has come loose from his ponytail and dangles in his face and it’s honestly kind of adorable.

“This doesn’t get you off the hook,” Fitzroy says, still trying to get his breath back.

Argo winces a bit. “Yeah… I know.”

Fitzroy swings his legs over the side of the cot, grimacing at the ache in his body when he does. “And I guess we have even more to talk about now.”

“I guess we do.”

“But, um. That was…very enjoyable. I’d like to do it again sometime when I don’t feel like death warmed over.”

Argo smiles. “That would be great.”

They each take a moment to collect themselves. Argo re-ties his hair and Fitzroy stands to put on the rest of his outfit and comb his hair with an actual comb that he keeps in his belt pouch. He’ll really have to compartmentalize this, he thinks, if he wants to finish this assignment strongly.

As they’re about to exit the tent, Argo clears his throat and leans in close to Fitzroy’s ear. Tingles race down his spine when he feels that stupid mustache tickle the side of his face. “Just in case it wasn’t clear, Fitz, I like you too.”

With that, the Genasi pushes aside the tent flap and departs in one quick, fluid motion, leaving Fitzroy standing there with steam coming from his ears. Althea is worried he’s gotten sick when he finally joins the rest of the group, and he makes a point of remembering to strangle Argo later for winking at him.

#maplekeene #the adventure zone #the adventure zone graduation #taz #taz graduation #my writing #god I’m writing fic again how wild is that

[themoonlovemuses]

Comfort (Caduceus Clay X Reader)

Summary: With the tragedy at the Ashkeeper Peaks plaguing you with nightmares of your fallen comrades, who else will comfort you in the night but the lovable Firbolg himself.

Author's Note: Again, this lovely piece of art of Caduceus was done by ABD-Illustrates, so please check his stuff out here if you get a moment.

The screams were always the worst past of your re-occurring nightmares. Not the ones of the nameless, the one you never knew but swore to protect anyway. No. The gut wrenching cries of your paladin friends. Kaulden, Raine, Wilfred. All the friends you ever made at the order died during that fight with the Kryn Dynasty. And for what? Glory? Peace? A better future? What did that matter to the people who died. What did that matter to the families that had to mourn the deaths of their loved one while everyone else celebrated what their loved one sacrificed to give them. The populous would never truly know their saviours or care after a month goes by. So why did they sacrifice themselves anyway?

“Because we have the strength to do so and no-one else will!” Is what Wilfred would’ve said, laughing boisterously as he downed his sixth cup of mead, the drink not even touching the sides or getting him even slightly tipsy. You used to love his stories of valour and glory; of helping strangers and kings. But after the events at the Ashkeeper Peaks, you were pretty disillusioned from stories with happy endings, or stories of valour. Especially since all you were left with from your time in the order was grief and guilt, and you were the one left with the nightmares; not them. Which brings you to tonight… 

“No...don’t touch her...NOOO!” You moaned and screamed as you came to from your nightmare once again. No matter how many times you relived it, you still could never take the images of Raine; the halfling who took you under her wing; being cut down by a gnoll, who howled with laughter as he did it. You made short work of the gnoll afterwards, but there was no bringing back her spark of light, not matter how hard the blue tiefling and firbolg tried when you begged them to help. 

The dreams always left you gasping for air, shaking and sweating in your sheets as you tried to calm yourself down. And tonight is no different. As you tried to calm down; you looked around the room; the twilight steaming through the semi-circle window. You called it ‘the’ room instead of ‘your’ room, since you assumed that the people you were currently with would kick you out at any moment, and you didn’t want to grow attached to the group in case that happened. It didn’t help that you weren’t entirely comfortable with sleeping in a house on enemy territory, but the half-orc, who appeared to be the leader of the group, insisted that you should go with them for now until you’re able to contact someone to let them know what happened to your group. So here you sat. In a room far from home, in the middle of the enemy’s territory, with no way to tell anyone what happen. Reaizing you predicament, you began to fall into despair… but before you can think for long, there’s a knock on ‘the’ door.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in?” A voice sounds from the other side of the door. And slowly, the door creaks open to reveal that the voice belongs to Caduceus; the firbolg that tried to save Raine, and comforted you as you travelled with the group into enemy territory, disguising you and protecting you from onlookers. 

“Oh.... Caduceus? What’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to mask that you had been crying, the darkness being your friend at the moment.

“Oh, I was getting some fertiliser for the plants upstairs, when I heard shouting. Are you ok?” He replied, holding up a jug, which he appeared to be using as a scoop for the fertiliser. Looking rather concerned for your well being, he started to step into the room just a little.

“On no it’s ok! I’m fine, I swear!” You say, trying to deflect what you were actually feeling, not wanting to bother him further. He’d been one of the ones who truly looked after you after the incident with your friends; trying to coax you into talking and keeping an eye on you when travelling into town, so you didn’t want to burden him anymore than you felt you already had.

“Hmmmm…” Was all he said in response, putting a hand to his chin and stroking his beard while he looked you up and down; the way an appraiser would look at a very fragile vase.

“You look like you could do with some tea. I’ll make a pot.” Caduceus said quickly as he left the room, in a effort to get it done before you could even protest. And while you tried to sputter out a response before he did so, you could tell that you were in a losing battle. So while he went to the kitchen, you tried to clean yourself up a bit to get rid of the tears and smooth down your bed hair.

“If I look like i’m ok, he’ll just leave after giving me the cup. It’ll be fine (Y/N).” You thought to yourself as you went back to sitting on the edge of your bed, taking in some deep breaths to calm yourself down. Eventually, Caduceus came back into the room with two cups in his hands.

“Here you go. May I?” He asked, nodding at the bed, asking if he could sit down.

“Oh… Sure. This tea is nice by the way. What is it? It’s not dead people tea is it?”

“No no… just some chamomile I picked up in town,” He chuckled, taking  asip on his own cup. “But you’re deflecting right now. That’s how I can tell something’s wrong. Was it a bad dream?”

“I’m fine. You shouldn’t have to worry about me. You should go back to the flowers.” You sighed, putting your cup on the chest that rested against the bottom of your bed,

“It’s not good to bottle up your feelings (Y/N). It’ll just make you feel worse” He said, putting his own cup on the nightstand and turning to face you properly, giving you his full attention. 

“But… no. It’s fine. I’m fine. I won’t be a burden to you or your friends Caduceus. I can sort this out on my own. I-” You started, but you were cut off by Caduceus, who pulled you into his chest and hugged you. The warmth feeling like he’d just draped a woollen blanket over you, the smell of tea and soil on his skin also helping to sooth you just a little.

“No-one here thinks you’re a burden (Y/N). In fact, Beau was just saying the other day how resilient she thought you were. But you know… despite how resilient you might be, it’s ok to not be ok sometimes. Right?” He asked, squeezing you just slightly as he said this.

And with those words, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. At first, you cried slowly and silently, like you believed you could still conceal the truth from the perceptive firbolg in front of you. But the tears kept rolling, and as he started to stroke his hands up your arms in comfort. You finally let the bottled up emotions loose, flowing like a champagne bottle after being shook. You cried and cried, for who knows how long, telling him about your friends, about your guilt, about how you have no idea how you’re going to tell their families what happened to them. And he sat there, not saying a word and comforting you with his warmth. Eventually, after you had calmed down enough, you looked up at the pink haired man, in both awe and embarrassment.

“Thanks Caduceus… I don’t think I realised how much I actually needed that.” You mumbled, sleep trying to take over your emotionally exhausted body. Telling that you were about to nod off, Caduceus chuckled and slowly laid you onto the bed, fetching a blanket that was bundled up at the top of your wardrobe and laying it up to of you.

“No one ever truly does. But if you ever need a ear to hear your troubles, you know where to find me.” And with a quick kiss to your temple, he picked up the long abandoned cups of tea, and left the room, looking over his shoulder one last time to smile at you as he closed your bedroom door.

“Maybe there is still a reason to fight… if it means I can keep people like him safe long enough to comfort others. I’ll have to thank him properly in the morning. You thought to yourself as you slowly allowed yourself to be embraced by sleep. Thinking up how to thank him will just have to wait until tomorrow. 

#caduceus #clay #caduceus clay #critical role #critrole #caduceus critical role #reader #x reader #cadeuceus x reader #clay x reader #caduceus clay x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #self-insert #writing #reader insert

[vexing-imogen]

hide your face (so the world will never find you)

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade Masquerade!

They’re the guests of honor tonight.

Fjord guesses that’s what’s supposed to happen when you’ve saved the world about half a dozen times and counting. It is a bit surreal though. Looking down at the sea of people crowding the Lavish Chateau and knowing they’re there for you, because of you.

He hasn’t joined the party yet, choosing instead to watch the revelry below from one of Jester’s childhood hiding places. He observes the masquerade through a simple face mask; a deep forest green, dappled with lighter greens, decorated with kelp and colorful sea glass, and held in place with a piece of the red cord he’s carried with him since his time on the Tide’s Breath. Jester had insisted that they all keep their masks and costumes a secret until the party, so Fjord makes a game out of searching the crowd for his friends.

Nott (Veth he has to remind himself. Not Nott anymore. Veth) er, Veth is easy enough to spot, leading Yeza around the buffet table. She’s wearing a pretty yellow dress, embroidered with delicate flowers. Her dark hair is braided into an elaborate updo, dark eyes sparkling with excitement above her broken porcelain mask.

He picks Caduceus out next, his firbolg form towering over most of the guests, but especially the white-haired gnome he’s conversing with. The beetle mask he’s wearing should be creepy as fuck, but his soft, floppy ears and long waterfall of hair soften the edges and make him look only mildly disconcerting.

Yasha would be hard to miss in a crowd, even without the large white wings that sprout from her shoulders. Her dress is midnight blue, embroidered with silver thread in patterns reminiscent of a lightning strike. Fjord thinks her white avian mask might be an eagle of some kind, but it’s hard to tell with her head ducked as it is, eyes on her dance partner.

Her dance partner being Beau. Beau, who Fjord wouldn’t recognize if he didn’t already know what her mask looked like. They’d gone shopping for masks together (Jester had pouted for hours when she found out), and he’d been the one to find the elaborate owl mask that looked a little too much like Professor Thaddeus. She’s dressed in a charcoal grey suit trimmed with blue. It has sleeves. Beauregard Lionett is willingly wearing sleeves and dancing and isn’t trying to start a brawl with the goliath from Vox Machina. He’s so proud he could cry.

It takes him a while to find Caleb. He’s sequestered himself in a dark corner (another one of Jester’s favored hiding spots), like Fjord, keeping himself separate from all of the attention and praise that none of them are quite sure they deserve. His cat mask is pushed up so he can better focus on his conversation partner. Essek, Fjord realizes with no small amount of shock. They’d invited him of course, at a banquet in Rosohna celebrating the end of the war, but none of them had expected him to actually show, Caleb especially.

Fjord searches the room for Jester fruitlessly. She isn’t by the stage, where a family of gnomes called the Shorthalt Seven play song after song. She isn’t sitting down with Allura Vysoren and her wife, Kima, who have abandoned their masks (a golden swan and a silver dragon, respectively) in favor of wine and ale. Nor is she at her mother’s side as Marion flirts with both Lord and Lady de Rolo. The Lady’s bronze dragon mask does little to muffle her laughter as her husband flushes a brilliant crimson behind a raven. She isn’t pestering Taryon Darrington, who is wearing a garish mask that can only be his construct, Doty. (the construct is wearing a mask, too. A truly horrifying thing that Fjord can only guess is supposed to be a likeness of Taryon.) In all of the music, laughter, dancing, drinking, mischief, and general chaos of the evening, Jester is nowhere to be found.

“Looking for someone?”

Fjord nearly cracks his head on a low beam jumping at the soft voice beside him. He’s halfway to summoning the Star Razor before he thinks that it might not be the best idea to run a random party guest through with a sword. He does spin towards the voice, and comes face to face with Keyleth of the Air Ashari and Vox Machina. The Voice of the Tempest. The powerful as fuck archdruid that could level the Chateau if she really wanted to.

Her rabbit mask is pushed up between her antlers, so he can see her wince and blush. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves off her apologies. “It’s fine, really,” he says, taking a breath and willing his heart to stop racing. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here, that’s all.”

Keyleth nods, her mask slipping a little with the movement. “I get it,” she says. “Don’t get me wrong, I love getting dressed up, and the free drinks are always a plus, but the whole socializing part of events like these have never been my forte.”

“It’s not the socializing I mind,” he says, searching for the right words. “It’s being the center of attention that bothers me, I suppose. Especially when-”

“You feel like you don’t deserve any of it, and you’re terrified that everyone will realize all at once how much of a fuck-up you truly are and throw you out on your ass?” Keyleth finishes, giving him a wry grin.

Fjord laughs. “Um, yes. To all of that.”

“Unfortunately, that feeling never really goes away,” she says, shrugging. “Sorry.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Having friends helps,” she says eventually. “Getting to see the positive impact of something that you did? That helps, too.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I think it also helps knowing that you aren’t alone in what you’re feeling.”

Keyleth grins. “Don’t mention it. Now, did you need help finding someone?” Her fingertips spark with magic as she wiggles them at him. “I probably have a spell that can help.”

Fjord shakes his head. “Thank you, but sometimes it’s just nice to sit back and watch the crowd.”

She likely sees through the lie, but she doesn’t push it. “Okay,” she says awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get back before my friends send a search party after me. They can get kind of paranoid sometimes.”

He nods. “It was nice talking with you, Miss Keyleth.”

He’s turning back to search for Jester when Keyleth calls his name. He turns back to her, about halfway down the stairs, an unreadable expression on her face. “Yes?”

“One last piece of advice?” He nods. She takes a deep breath. “Don’t wait until it’s too late to tell someone how you really feel about them. It works out for some,” she adds, eyes darting to Lord and Lady de Rolo, now dancing close, lost to everyone else but each other. “But, the more time you get with someone you love, the better.”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

What he doesn’t say is that he was already almost too late. They’d lost Jester during one of their recent battles. She’d gone down and Caduceus was too far away, too focused on keeping Caleb and Beau alive. Fjord and Yasha’s meager healing abilities hadn’t been enough, and, for twelve agonizing hours, Jester was lost to them. Cad was able to bring her back with Beau and Nott’s help. Fjord’s too. He’ll be damned if he can remember everything he said, but he knows he’d whispered his love to her, for only her to hear.

Keyleth is long gone when Jester’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Fjo-ord, where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The party got too stuffy, so I went to my momma’s balcony for some fresh-”

He chuckles as her message cuts off. “Message received, loud and clear. Stay where you are, Jessie, I’ll be right up.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fjord finds Jester right where she said she’d be; in her mother’s room, out on the balcony, staring up at the night sky, the ocean breeze gently ruffling her hair. He stops to examine the mask that she’s left on the table before going out to join her. It’s a full face mask, styled after old theatre masks. One side laughing, one side crying; comedy and tragedy in one. The laughing side is a deep emerald green, the crying a jewel-bright pink, all accented with gold.

As he sets the mask aside and moves to join her on the balcony, he sees that the colors perfectly match her dress. The sleeveless bodice is patterned with harlequin diamonds, green, pink, and gold. Her skirt flares out, layer upon layer of emerald green tulle. She looks like a princess, and Fjord, in his simple mask and pirate costume, feels every inch a pauper.

The moment he sets foot on the balcony, she turns to him, and the smile she gives him wipes away any momentary insecurities.

“There you are, Fjord,” she teases. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

He grins, moves to lean against the railing. “Please accept my deepest apologies,” he says. “How ever can I make up for such a grievous error?”

Jester giggles. “Wellll, for starters, as cool as it is, you can take your mask off. This balcony has officially been declared a “no mask zone”.”

“Is that so?” he asks, smirking when she nods seriously. “I suppose I should comply, then. I wouldn’t want to break official rules.”

He unties his mask and hands it to Jester, watching as she runs her fingers over the sea glass. “This is really cool, Fjord,” she says, rubbing her thumb across a piece of kelp.

He blushes a bit, ducking his head. “Thanks, Jes. Yours is...gorgeous,” he says. “The wh-whole ensemble, really. I mean, gods, Jester, there’s rarely a day you don’t take my breath away, but tonight...gods, tonight...”

Her eyes are wide when he finally dares to look up at her, mouth hanging open just a little, a purple flush coloring her cheeks and chest. “Fjord...” She laughs a little, breathless. “Fjord, I...”

She’s speechless, searching for words, but she isn’t panicking. There are tears starting to gather at the corners of her eyes, but she’s smiling, and not the sad, pitying kind of smile she’d given Freddie de Rolo when he’d tried to kiss her, and she had to turn him down. He steps a little closer, gives her time to retreat if she wants. She doesn’t move.

He reaches up to stroke her cheek, and she leans into his touch, eyelashes fluttering. “We never did have that talk about the day you died,” he says softly. “Or about the day we brought you back.”

“No, we didn’t,” she says. She bites her lip. “What...what did you want to talk about?”

He has to close his eyes, can’t watch her face as he says what he’s about to say. “I don’t know what I would have done if we hadn’t been able to bring you back, Jester.” His head drops until his forehead meets hers. “Losing you would have destroyed all of us, certainly, but you can ask anyone, Jester. I was useless. It was only twelve hours, but it felt like a lifetime.”

She lets out a shaky breath that he can feel wash across his cheek. “And all of that stuff you said during the ritual?”

He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes. “I meant every word.”

Tears are flowing freely down her face. “Even the part where...”

“Especially the part where,” he says. “I’m in love with you, Jester Lavorre, and it shouldn’t have taken you dying for me to admit it.”

Her answering smile knocks all the breath from his lungs. Or maybe that’s her jumping to kiss him, throwing him off balance with her enthusiasm. He ends up on his back on the floor, Jester sprawled on top of him, both of them laughing hysterically.

“Oh gosh, Fjord,” Jester manages between giggles. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jes, don’t you worry.” He pushes himself to sitting, giving her the chance to climb off of him. Instead, she settles more fully in his lap. “And you don’t ever have to apologize for trying to kiss me, alright?”

She grins, leaning in to kiss him. “Good,” she says. “Because I’m going to want to kiss you a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I’m talking an obscene amount of kissing here, Fjord.”

He laughs, winds an arm around her waist. “I think I can live with that, darlin’.”

She rests her forehead against his. “Will you say it again, Fjord?”

He kisses her again. “I love you, Jester.”

“I love you, too, Fjord.”

#critical role #critfic #fjorester #fjord #jester lavorre #long post

[luckyjak]

fic: Lover (2/3)

Link to chapter 1 | A03 Link

It was surprising how easily writing to Essek fit into Caleb’s daily routine. Alarm spell, putting up the dome, counting spell components, preparing spells for the next day, writing in his other notebook, then writing to Essek. He often wrote whole paragraphs about what had happened that day, sometimes even writing pages if it had been a particularly eventful day. Sometimes, if things had been timed just right, Essek was able to respond to his messages immediately, and they were able to talk to one another via text, trading messages back and forth, but most days Caleb wrote in the evenings, and woke up to a response from Essek in the morning.

He wrote about everything, from the mundane to the extreme. He still filtered his thoughts somewhat. He wasn’t stupid; he knew anything he wrote to Essek could still end up in the Bright Queen’s ear. But it was still nice to just talk to him, to write down every crazy thing that had happened in his daily life and have someone else to respond to.

--

They had made it to Port Damali and had the comfort of an inn, for once. A disastrous day had led them to splurge a little bit, at Fjord’s insistence, that they each deserved a “goddamn bed for the night.” By some miracle, there were even enough rooms for them to each have a private room, if they wanted, which most of them insisted on for at least an evening.

As was habit, he had taken the time before bed to write to Essek:

Fjord almost got sacrificed to a volcano today. Turns out Jester’s not just in a cult, but is actually the leader of said cult. She’s not having a good time right now. On the plus side, the dunamancy spells you’ve taught me keep saving us: Fjord not dead right now because I managed to use the immovable object spell on his whip, keeping him from falling. So thank you, Essek; my friend isn’t dead because of what you taught me.

He yawned and put the book away, intending on sleeping when he felt the vibration of the book, meaning Essek had responded. He pulled it back out immediately. In swirly, elegant handwriting was Essek’s response:

I’m glad Fjord is okay. Jester is the leader of a cult? Why am I not surprised? I’m glad the spell came in handy for more than pranking. No one was injured, I hope?

Caleb grinned, and pulled out his quill to respond.

A few of us are injured. Veth was shot in the leg by a crossbow, and Beau’s shoulder is fucked up, and Yasha is perpetually injured, but we’re fine other than that. Actually get to sleep in a bed tonight, so that will help. How was your day?

He waited a moment to see if Essek would respond, and sure enough the book vibrated again.

Well, no one got sacrificed to a volcano, but to be honest I wouldn’t have minded throwing Imyrn into one if we’d been anywhere near one.

Ha. That’s the accountant, right?

Indeed. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that magic costs gold to cast. “Is there any way we can use charcoal instead of obsidian for our shadow warriors?” No, asshole, that’s not how magic works.

Caleb rolled his eyes. Every wizard in Exandria wishes that’s how it worked.

Right? I wish he’d go bother someone else’s department and leave mine alone.

Caleb frowned into his notebook, and drew a sad frowny face. I’m sorry. It sounds frustrating.

It is. There was a pause, and then the notebook vibrated again. When will you be back in Rosohna?

A good question; one Caleb wished he knew the answer to. Hopefully in the next few days. Fjord has some people he wants to talk to while we’re here in Port Damali, and we may stop by Nicodranas so Jester can see her muther since she’s so distraught. He paused, tapping the quill on the notebook as he thought carefully about what he wanted to say next. I miss you.

I miss you, too. I wish you were here tonight.

Caleb sat the quill down and looked around. The inn was quiet, and his alarm spell was already in place, but that didn’t stop him from taking a moment to stand up and double check to make sure the door was locked before he crawled back into bed, and to Essek’s messages.

Oh? He wrote back cheekily. And what would you do if I was there tonight?

It took Essek a moment to respond: I’d take you to bed with me, darling.

Fuck. That was what he was hoping he’d write. Would you? He wrote back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. I thought we were taking things slow.

They were, of course, though it wasn’t by choice but rather proximity. There was a point in Caleb’s life when he enjoyed how much the Nein constantly traveled; now he found he wished they could stay in one place (Rosohna) long enough for him to spend more time with Essek.

Writing like this helped, of course, but it was nothing compared to actually being with Essek.

Well, maybe I wouldn’t. But I’d want to. I think about it all the time. Caleb groaned while reading. Are you alone?

Yes. Are you?

Yes.

Caleb slid one hand under the covers, cupping himself lightly. Then tell me what all you want to do to me, liebling.

--

He would sooner burn his notebook before ever letting anyone ever look at what he and Essek had written to each other that night. But whenever he had the time and the privacy, he found himself rereading what they’d written over, and over, and over again.

--

It took weeks to get back to Rosohna. After leaving Port Damali, Caduceus had had another vision from the Wildmother, which led to them hunting down the Stone family and reforging another sword, this time for Yasha. It had taken three and a half weeks and had taken them trapezing through the ruins of Draconia, but it was finished, finally.

“Ooh, we should take a break and go to Nicodranas!” Jester suggested, and Caleb felt like he could kill her. “We can go see my mama and Nott’s family!”

“Alternate suggestion: you can go to Nicodranas, and I���ll go back to Roshona and see my boyfriend. We have teleportation circles in both locations; it costs very little for us to go to both places.”

“Sure, let’s split the party. Nothing bad has ever happened because of that, right?” Beau snarked at him.

“Jester has Sending . It takes only a few moments to send a message, and it takes about a minute to teleport. Hopefully nothing attacks us while we’re in two of our home bases.”

“I want to go to Rosohna,” Yasha suggested, her quiet voice supporting Caleb’s idea. “I have bracers there that I never picked up.”

“Oh shit, right, I forgot about that. And I should probably check in with Darion if we’re going there.”

Fjord shrugged. “So we’ll split the party. Caleb can send Jester, Nott, and myself to Nicodranas, and Yasha, Beau, and Caleb can go to Rosohna. Caduceus, where do you want to go?”

The firbolg paused thoughtfully. “I suppose I should check on my garden. I’ll go to Rosohna.”

“And someone should check in with Essek and the Bright Queen, make sure they don’t need us for anything. But I suppose Caleb’s got that covered, huh?” Jester winked, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow.

“I promise if I do nothing else, I’ll be checking in with Essek,” Caleb promised them, keeping his face neutral despite the excitement building in his chest. (It had been weeks. He was allowed to want like this, wasn’t he?)

“Checking in with his pants , more likely,” Beau mumbled. Then “Ow, fuck, it was a joke , Nott!”

“You leave Caleb alone! He’s allowed to be excited about seeing his boyfriend!”

While they were conversing, he pulled out his blue notebook and sent a quick message Essek’s way. Good news! I’m coming back to Rosohna for at least an evening but hopefully longer!

The response was almost immediate. That’s great! There is a formal occasion tonight that requires my presence that I must attend--would you like to join me? It’s bound to be boring but the food with be free.

He was in the process of writing out his acceptance when another of Essek’s messages appeared instead. Actually, extend the invitation to the rest of your group as well. It’s a celebration dinner; the Heroes of the Dynasty should be in attendance. We would have sent out a formal invitation weeks ago, but you guys have been out for awhile.

He scratched out what he had started to write, and instead wrote: Will do.

He shut his messenger book gently. “Change of plans. We’re all going to Roshana. They’re having a fancy formal celebration and would like the Heroes of the Dynasty to make an appearance tonight.”

Jester gasped. “A fancy formal thing? Oh, we get to go shopping! ”

“Oh joy,” Fjord deadpanned.

There was a rush of voices as everyone began discussing what they wanted to do, or where, or what order they should do things.

“Sorry, Veth,” Caleb knelt down beside his friend, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you wanted to see your family.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I like fancy, formal things,” she paused thoughtfully. “Actually, could you ask Essek if I can bring Yeza and Luc? They may want to come to Roshana for the party and then stay the night.”

“I can ask.”

Essek didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else in the Dynasty; the formal affair was a celebration of the Luxon, the night before the Day of Light celebration in the capital. It’s the first time we’ve had a Beacon of the Luxon home for the Day of Light in almost a century, thanks to your efforts. Essek had written. So bring whoever you want.

That made the excitement of the group go up. It had been afternoon in the ruins of Draconia, but it was still early morning in Nicodranas when they showed up--once again without warning--in Yussah’s tower, and then again in the Lavish Chateau. Jester had tried to convince her mother to come to the evening’s celebration in Rosohna, but the Ruby of the Sea couldn’t be convinced to travel to a foreign city, even just for an evening. Yeza had been pleased to be invited, however, and Luc was excited about magical travel and seeing where his mama worked.

The rest of the day had been a bit of a hurried blur after that; there was shopping to be done, first by selling some of the ruins of Draconia they had managed to grab while traveling to meet the Stones. It had earned them quite a bit of coin, and Jester had insisted that they spend at least part of it on formalwear for the evening. Caleb found he didn’t mind too much; they had the gold to spend, and after weeks of not being able to see Essek, he wanted to impress him if he could.

He ended up buying several outfits of different levels of formality, settling on a dark blue and silver outfit for the evening that, according to various members of his group, brought out the color of his eyes nicely. With Yasha’s help, he shaved off the monstrosity of a beard that had grown in the weeks they spent traveling. He ended up not getting cut up this time, too, which was a bonus. He even got a haircut, trimming several inches off of his ponytail so that his hair wasn’t quite as wild as it had been.

He wasn’t the only one cleaning their act up: both Fjord and Beau had touched up their undercuts, which had gotten ridiculously shaggy since the last time they were in Rosohna. Veth, Jester, and Yasha had opted to keep their hair long, but took the time to braid their hair into a formal updo. Even Yeza ended up shaving his sideburns down a bit, although whether it was because everyone else had or he wanted to do it for his wife, Caleb didn’t know.

Before he knew it, it was evening at the palace of the Bright Queen, decorated in its splendor to an extend Caleb had never seen. The palace was always a beautiful building, the architecture elven and crystalline, but tonight it shine with a magical sort of decadence, the sort of thing that came from a people who lived for thousands of years throughout time immortal, that outshined anything he’d ever encountered in the Empire.

Waiting at the palace gates for him was his lover of a month and a half, wearing the same long mantle he always did, a perpetual scowl on his face.

The scowl melted away the moment he saw him, however. “Caleb,” he said quietly, a soft and gentle smile on his voice, and Caleb wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t walking closer as he spoke.

Time seemed to freeze and blur around him as Essek kissed him, quickly but deeply. It wasn’t long enough--would forever be long enough?-- but it was better than nothing he’d lived with for weeks.

Time seemed to resume, and he heard giggling behind him as Essek pulled away. “And the rest of the Mighty Nein, it seems. Good evening.”

Right. He forgot they existed for a moment.

“You gonna kiss every guest to welcome them, or just the special ones?” Beau teased as Essek flushed a darker shade of purple.

“ Beauregard--”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have. We are in public, after all,” Essek winced, rubbing the back of his head. He bowed before them, gesturing towards the front of the palace. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

He led them down a long corridor into the Bright Queen’s throne room, which had been decorated in white and silver drapery and crystalline decor. His companions scattered almost immediately: Beau and Yasha to the dance floor, with Jester dragging an uncomfortable looking Fjord behind them. Yeza and Nott had tackled the snack table, and Caduceus was nowhere to be found.

Essek stayed beside him, though, a respectable distance so that someone might mistake them as colleagues, at least until Essek leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Although I should tell you: my sister Meela knows about us.”

Ah. That explained the stiffness. “Meela’s the priestess, right? The oldest?”

“Yes. She’s the High Priestess, actually. She was injured in the Scourager attack months ago, so she’s been at home recovering, temporarily relieved of duty, and it’s led to her meddling out of boredom.” He scowled, his cheeks still a slight dark purple. “She’s insistent on meeting you tonight.”

“Essek, that is fine for me. You have nothing to worry about. I do not mind meeting your sister,” he nodded in the direction of an approaching woman. “Is that her?”

“That would be Meela, yes.” He gestured for her to approach. “Meela, this is Caleb Widogast, arcanist of the Mighty Nein and retriever of the Beacon. Caleb, my oldest sister Meela Thelyss, High Priestess of the Luxon.”

She was plump in a way most drow were not, and her skin more gray compared to Essek’s deep purple. But they were almost certainly related in some fashion: they had the same eyes and the same mouth, although her smile was a bit sharper. She studied Caleb with the scrutiny of a woman who spent long years studying other people, although it was hidden behind kind-looking eyes.

She seemed familiar to Caleb, too, but he chalked it up to her resemblance to Essek. “A pleasure,” she shook his hand, her nails long and sharp. “My, but aren’t you an unexpected surprise? Handsome,” she ran a hand down the side of his face, brushing a stray curl behind his ear. “I like the long hair.”

“ Meela-- ”

“Oh, hush , Essek, I’m not going to embarrass you.” She winked at Caleb, as if to tell him that embarrassing her little brother was her favorite hobby. “It is an honor to have the Hero of the Dynasty here this evening for our celebration. You must tell me more about yourself; my brother has been surprisingly tight-lipped about this whole affair. I had to practically torture him just to get him to admit he was dating you!”

She wrapped an arm around Caleb’s, dragging him away from Essek.

He then proceeded to spend the next half hour going through what felt like the most bizarre interrogation of his life; Meela had wanted to know everything about him, or so it seemed. Where had he grown up? Who taught him magic? Did he regret leaving the Empire? Did he have any friends or family still back in the Empire, or was he loyal to the Dynasty completely? Surprisingly few of her questions involved his relationship with Essek: she seemed more interested in who Caleb was a person and where his loyalties lied than they fact that he was dating her brother.

Luckily, it was time for dinner, and Meela was called away to proceed over the meal, giving Caleb a bit of a reprieve. Essek’s face was flushed as he led Caleb to the table where the meal would be served.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, floating beside Caleb as they walked. “She’s never cared about anyone else I’ve ever dated! I don’t know why she felt the need to interrogate you like that--”

“It’s probably because I’m human,” Caleb pointed out as they joined the crowd. “None of your other boyfriends have been human, have they?”

“No. Well, one was a half-orc, but,” he sighed. “You’re probably right. Still, I apologize. This wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go.”

Feeling invisible by the crowd, Caleb reached down and squeezed Essek’s hand. “Well, the night is still young.”

They didn’t get to sit next to each other, but they did get to sit across from one another, which was a blessing in and of itself. Caleb had to practically jump over Fjord to stop him from sitting across from Essek by accident, but it was fine by the end.

Dinner was served over four courses, including dessert. There was some hesitation on how to eat--the food was served with twin sticks as opposed to forks and spoons, and that had been a lesson in and of itself. Caleb knew how to use them a little bit just because he had eaten out before with Essek in the past; his friends, however, were hilarious in their attempts, much to the thankful amusement of the Bright Queen and her entourage.

He didn’t get to monopolize Essek’s attention, either; a fierce but friendly debate over the nature of reincarnation had sparked across their table, and Essek had Opinions, it seemed, and a need to share them. Beau also had opinions, as did the Minister of Labor, a broad-shouldered bugbear who sat on the Bright Queen’s council not far from them. On the other side of Caleb, Yeza, Caduceus, Nott and the elderly goblin advisor seemed to be discussing the medical properties of mushrooms.

He’d just have to find his own entertainment, then.

Coyly, he ran his foot against the back of Essek’s shin, teasing him lightly. But to his surprise, his boyfriend didn’t respond to his touch, too busy yelling at Beauregard about how wrong she was.

...Perhaps he was simply distracted?

It didn’t matter; soon, Caleb was dragged into a discussion with Fjord about magic, which the Bright Queen herself joined in for.

The next course was served, and tempers were soothed. The discussion at the table was now about some sort of drow sporting game, of which Essek only had occasional polite commentary to offer and seemed almost as bored of the conversation as Caleb. Fjord, Beau, and Jester were being invited to play in a game the next day--an invitation extended to Caleb as well, but which he and Essek both declined, more interested in a game of a different sort.

Caleb tried playing with him again, running his foot down the entire length of his leg, but once again Essek ignored him.

How odd .

The third course was served, but Caleb barely paid it any mind; instead, his mind was furiously trying to connect the dots.

Essek floated everywhere he went. He never went anywhere without his mantle, even to a formal event like tonight, or even a less formal date with Caleb. The mantle was almost certainly enchanted somehow, though Caleb’s detect magic spell couldn’t identify the spell school, which was practically a guarantee that it was dunamancy of some sort. His specialty was time, yes, but part of dunamancy was also the study of gravity .

When they were at the White Dragon’s den, Essek didn’t leave behind footprints in the snow. When the ball bearings were left on the Mighty Nein’s floor, he pushed the ball bearings away naturally.

Essek floated not out of pretension like Caleb had assumed when he first met him, but because he couldn’t walk. His mantle helped him levitate almost constantly. And based on how he hadn’t responded to Caleb’s flirting, he likely couldn’t feel anything in his legs, if Caleb was guessing correctly.

(Was that why he didn’t want to have sex…? Could he have sex, even, if--?)

An impulsive instinct overtook him, and Caleb kicked Essek under the table sharply, in a way that was impossible to ignore and, likely, should have hurt and caused some sort of reaction.

But Essek didn’t respond at all.

Schiesse, but he was right , wasn’t he? Essek was paralyzed, or injured, or something , and Caleb was a stupid fucking idiot who hadn’t noticed before now.

And the winner of the worst boyfriend in the world award goes to me , Caleb thought sullenly. Why hadn’t Essek told him? He could understand not saying anything before, when they weren’t dating and Caleb had technically been nothing more than Essek’s student; frankly, it wasn’t any of Caleb’s business. But now?

And sheisse , he had planned on asking Essek to dance after dinner! What an idiot he was!

Maybe Essek thought he knew already? Caleb tried to reason, but how was Caleb supposed to know? Or maybe he’s embarrassed? But what was there to be embarrassed by, Caleb wondered.

“--leb. Caleb?” Oh, someone was talking to him.

“What is it, Veth?” He asked, shaking himself out of his musing.

“Are you alright?” She asked, three seats away but full of motherly concern. “You haven’t touched your spider legs.”

“ Nein , I’m fine. I just filled up on bread earlier.” He lied, pushing his plate away from him. He couldn’t imagine eating at the moment.

Why hadn’t Essek trusted him?

Like you can even talk about trust, Caleb chided himself. How much about himself had he not told Essek, either? Trust was a two-way street, and it seemed like it was something they both struggled with.

He was about to spiral into another depressive episode when he felt a hand on his thigh. Looking down into his lap he saw a spectral mage hand, different from the one Nott normally summoned, a shimmering translucent purple slender hand, tracing circles onto his pants.

He looked up to see Essek wink at him before he continued his conversation with Yeza about plants.

Oh, but he was a fool, wasn’t he? Caleb felt his heart race in his chest, threatening to burst from the amount of affection he felt for the dark elf. Did it even matter that he and Essek didn’t trust one another? They still liked one another, and that alone was a feeling worth pursuing. How long had it been since he felt like this? Since he just simply liked something (or in this case, someone) exactly as it was, without feeling guilty or ashamed for wanting something?

He spent the rest of the meal playing with the spectral hand on his thigh, occasionally rubbing his foot against Essek’s leg, unsure if Essek could feel what he was doing, but no longer caring. It was enough to just touch him, even if Essek couldn’t touch him back.

--

After dinner there were speeches, and a lot of them. It was nearing midnight, and Caleb was reaching a point of exhaustion, yet still he stood beside Essek as other members of the council gave their speeches. The first was from the Minister of Labor, who had a grand speech about working together in the face of adversity, how what made Xhorhas strong was their willingness to come together.

“Do you have to give a speech like this?” Caleb inquired, which was met with an amused chuckle from his beloved.

“No,” Essek scooted closer to him, reaching down to take Caleb’s hand in his own. “Thankfully.”

Then the War General spoke about the war efforts and how Xhorhas was prevailing against the evils of the Empire. Caleb tried not to listen to him much, instead focusing on the warmth of Essek’s hand wrapped in his.

“I’d like to dance with you,” Essek whispered into his ear; Caleb felt himself blush. “Later, on the balcony, after most people leave. If you’d like.”

“I’d love to.”

Next came the Sky Sibil, who talked about the history of Xhorhas and the light of the Luxon, and the importance of the holiday and the promise of rebirth.

After the Sky Sibil, the Bright Queen herself spoke, her voice regal. No one spoke while she spoke; no one dared. She thanked the Mighty Nein for bringing the Luxon to the Dynasty, and she spoke about how they still searched for the remaining Beacons, but that she had faith they’d return to them soon enough.

“I realize it’s late in the evening,” the Queen promised. “But I’d like to close our evening with a prayer. High Priestess Thelyss, if you would be so kind…?”

Suddenly, Essek tensed. “Something’s wrong,” he explained, letting go of Caleb’s hand and stepping closer to the dias where the rest of the council stood.

What happened next was something out of a nightmare: Essek’s sister approached the Bright Queen, embracing her tightly before stabbing her in the back, quite literally.

The disguise spell wore off immediately, as her form shifted from that of Essek’s sister to that of a short human woman with cropped dark hair, her knife bloody as the Bright Queen’s body crumbled. He would recognize the woman anywhere, even if it had been sixteen years since he saw her last.

Astrid.

#critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #astrid cr